We all can't be professional writers; we all can't have our own newspaper columns. This right here is my space. I get to be my own writer and editor and everyone else will just have to settle to be my critic.

Friday, September 13, 2013

Friday The 13th

It used to really annoy me when Ghanaians living in Ghana (probably having lived in Gh all their lives) would get all hot and bothered because it was Friday the 13th. Seriously, I remember when I was in primary school and junior secondary, some kids would be too scared to go to school. For me, it was kind of like an American getting all excited because it's 6th March. And then someone broke up with me on a Friday the 13th.
Oh boy! Yep, he went through the whole "break up" speech and added the "it's not you, it's me" speech. And when I finally managed to get a word in, all I said was "why didn't you do this yesterday or the day before or wait till tomorrow? You just had to pick today." Of course he didn't get it and then I add, "I hope you realise today's Friday the 13th". He gets all apologetic about choosing that day, we share a good laugh, and though we get back together three days later, the day has held a new meaning for me since, and I'm not so quick to berate any Ghanaian for getting worked up because it's Friday the 13th.

All that was a couple of years ago, when life seemed so much simpler. It really is surprising though that back then, when I was much younger and supposed to be pretty immature, I didn't throw a tantrum because of the breakup. Well, right now, if a certain someone tried that, I'd be too busy mashing up his face (I hope you and the police don't read this) to remind him he shouldn't have picked a Friday the 13th to break up with me (and I so wouldn't be sharing anything with him, a good or not so good laugh).

So, on this day, I remember you. Not just because it's Friday the 13th, but because today would have been your 30th birthday, and Sunday, September 8 was eight years since you left this world.